Tastes Like Home
by BetterThanCoffee
Summary: Post-Western Air Temple. Zuko and Sokka enjoy a cup of tea together.


**A/N: I'm finally out of treatment, which means I am back to writing, updating, and just general slouching! I wrote this fast to get back in the game. Expect more competent updates in the future.**

Sokka would be the first to admit that he is not the most mature banana in a bundle, but even he had to escape the foibles of youth when Toph and Aang would get into their little stand-offs. Sokka loved the pair, and he would do anything to protect the two, but sometimes their age really showed through. Katara, while arguably the more mature of the two siblings, couldn't help getting herself in the middle of the altercation. The end result was rock, water, and wind swirling through the temple, dappled with childish giggles, threatening any by-stander, including a certain boomerang-slinger. Sokka could only take so many boulders to the face before he had to walk away. The triad remained in the middle of the chaos, squabbling like a hoard of chicken-ducks.

Picking a random path, Sokka marveled at the architecture of the Western Air Temple. A few more modern twists were interspersed throughout the temple, reminding Sokka that people had not only inhabited, but filled this temple like a city only merely one-hundred years prior. None of the modern twists, however, took away from the original purpose of the temple – the innovative design of having the temple cling to the ledge of a cliff, inaccessible to all except the Air Nomads. Only their design was not hidden enough. Sokka ran his tan fingertips over a faded mural of a wizened woman, her scalp far balder than what was custom amongst the women that inhabited this temple. Generations of history wiped out in one foul swoop. Just the thought of the Fire Nation's tyrannical fury over the rest of the world had Sokka's stomach roiling in a concoction of both paralyzing fear and angle.

Speaking of Fire Nation, a banished prince appeared in Sokka's periphery. Secluded in a room, Zuko appeared to be scrabbling the ground for something. Either the prince was up to something, or he had finally cracked. Sokka suspected the chance of either was pretty even, but he prayed that the prince's clock had just gone cuckoo. Spirits know that they did not need Zuko chasing them once more, on top of Azula (and honestly, the entirety of the Fire Nation).

"Hey Lizard-Breath!" Sokka called over, while simultaneously congratulating himself over such a clever nickname for the fire-breather. Zuko startled, static emitting from the tips of his hair, causing the mass to stand up even further on end. The water tribe boy eyed the firebender's head wearily. Sokka felt he had gotten quite a few pretty up-close and personal glimpses of Zuko over the last several months, and honestly, the state of his hair was starting to worry the teenager. If Zuko's last bit of sanity really was tied to his hair cut, then all hope for gang really was lost.

"What are you doing?" Sokka inquired, bored. The fire prince remained kneeling on the ground, blinking almost owlishly in return to Sokka's inquiry. "Zuko?"

"Tea."

Sokka stared at the prince. "I'm sorry."

Zuko ran a hair through his hair, ruffling it further. "Uh, what I was trying to say," Zuko began stuttering out, still clearly unsure of what sort of relationship he had with the water tribe teen, now that he was affiliated with their group. The banished prince stopped, cleared his throat, and started once more.

"When my uncle and I were first cast out of the fire nation, two years ago, we rested here at the Western Air Temple while my wounds healed. I was uncomfortable being away from palace life for the first time in my life, but Uncle said that anywhere in the world could feel like home as long as one had a good cup of tea."

Sokka stared at the teenager, who began scrabbling at the ground again, seemingly done with his story. "And?" The water tribe boy begged.

"And thus," Zuko continued, no longer shy about whether or not his words were welcomed, "Uncle stashed a bit of his finest tea here."

With this words, Zuko's finger finally caught on a loop, embedded into the ground. With a single tug, an entire tile shifted from its place, leaving an empty cavern underneath. Within this small opening, there was a tan pouch, assumingly full of tea.

The banished prince paused, his hands shaking above the pouch in indecision. Sokka began shifting back and forth, and that was enough to prompt Zuko to pull the pouch from its hiding space. "Uh," Zuko started, his habitual stutter having returned, "I don't suppose to want any?"

"Sure," Sokka shrugged. After having spent months chased by fire bender, who had seemed all-power and larger than life, it was interesting to get a look into this same character who was just as insecure and young as Sokka himself was.

As Zuko managed to gather all the necessary tools, Sokka could help but ask, "So I get that your uncle is a pretty cool guy, you know, for a firebender," Sokka couldn't help add, "but why would he just stash some of his best tea here? I mean, he must have known you guys weren't going to stay here forever."

"This was the beginning of the journey between my uncle and myself. Uncle Iroh always said that when this was all over, we would return to the temple for a final cup of tea." Zuko lit a small fire under the kettle. "I figured this was as close as I was going to get."

"Oh," Sokka spoke softly. He did not expect Zuko to share something so deep and so private, and yet here Sokka was, watching Zuko boil water for tea he never expected to have with his beloved uncle.

"You will see him again, someday," Sokka felt it pertinent to add.

"When I'm being dragged away to jail, sure." Zuko lifted to kettle from the fire, and poured the steaming liquid into two cups. Handing one to Sokka, the prince continued, "You don't get it, Sokka. I don't expect to come out of this war on top. Best case scenario is that I end up in prison. Even if I manage to survive and get out of this in one piece, I don't expect my uncle will ever talk to me again."

Sokka, for once, had no words. He merely reached for his cup of tea. Blowing the steam off the top, the water tribe boy took a sip. "It's good."

Zuko hummed, eyes shut, as he took in the smell of the tea, before taking a sip himself, "Tastes like home."


End file.
